Haven't I seen you before?
by i-hate-mornings
Summary: Angel saves a little girl in an alleyway. Little does he know that she will grow to be the most powerful Slayer ever and he will be her protector. COMPLETED
1. Chapter 1

I just want to say that I'm not sure of the dates so I guessed them. They sounded about right. Also, the bold parts are obviously Angelus speaking in Angel's head.

This story is only three chapters so far. It may go into four but that's it. It's just a small story on what if Angel had unknowingly met Buffy before Whistler showed her to him.

_Haven't I seen you before?_

**Chapter 1**

****

_Paris, 1897_

They rejected him.

Buildings blazed all around him but his pain filled gaze took in nothing. He didn't see the vampires ravenously devouring the frightened humans, didn't see the livestock escaping through the street, trampling people in their haste to escape the rapidly burning city, didn't see the rapid deterioration of a once great city. He saw only pain. His own and the amounts of which he'd caused others.

The souled vampire, formally know as the demon Angelus, Scourge of Europe, was at a loss for what to do. His sire and clan had rejected him, his mind was filled with the horrors of the last one hundred years and his body shook with the uncontrollable craving for fresh blood. He felt as though he were only newly risen, unable to control his urges and completely disorientated.

In one night he had lost everything that meant something to him. Blood tears streaked down his face, making him look more a victim than he already did. 'Are you okay?' a woman approached him slowly.

He smiled painfully. Even in times of great destruction, the generosity of the human race astounded him. 'Not in the least,' he said.

Before the woman could respond, a vampire grabbed her from behind and sank his fangs into her neck. The Soul didn't even notice.

What was he? A abomination to the race of vampires, a vampire with soul, a conscience yet he didn't fit into the human world either. He still couldn't walk in the sun, enjoy food or die an old man so where did he fit? Where did he belong?

**You don't belong anywhere, Soul boy,** a snide voice whispered though his head.

He froze for an interminable amount of seconds. The voice seemed to come from his head. The Soul's face crumbled as he realised it was the demon. It was still inside him. There to taunt him, to remind him of the atrocious crimes he committed for all eternity.

**It doesn't have to be forever… you could surrender. Give yourself back over to me. You wouldn't feel a thing anymore. Bliss.**

NO. The Soul's mind, though distressed and confused, came together enough to baulk at the thought of giving the demon back control. More people would die and as upset as he was, he couldn't knowingly let that happen. His newly acquired conscience was screaming No! at him so loud it was impossible to ignore it.

**Look at them, **the demon scoffed. **So scared, frightened, all that blood pumping through their veins, going to waste, just begging for you to drain them.**

_Get out of my head_, The Soul was in too much pain to put up too much of a fight. He just wanted to crawl up into a dark space and stay there for the rest of his life, which would pretty much be forever. That wasn't right. He shouldn't get to live forever when so many had dies at his hands. His only option was to remove himself from this existence.

He couldn't stake himself. Everything in him rebelled against that. It was not an honorable death. _Honorable_, he scoffed. _That does not apply to me any longer. _

**You're right there, Soul boy, **Angelus laughed in glee**. Honorable you're not. Cowardly, maybe…**

The Soul assessed his options. Dawn was approaching in a few hours, it was a more acceptable death than a self-staking. Yes, that was the answer. Decision made, he surveyed the horrific scene around him with clearer eyes. People were dying everywhere, buildings were burning and crumbling as he watched. He picked up a broken piece of cart from the ground. If he was going to die, he might as well take as many of his kind as he could with him.

He started staking the vampires, beginning with the one draining the woman who had spoken to him. There was no hope for her but at least he saved her from being turned. The vampires were easy game. Spike had already killed the Slayer so they were relaxed and unworried.

He moved through the town, staking vampire after vampire, delighting in the surprised looks on their faces, more than once picturing his Sire's face or his Childers'. Darla, _jab_, Spike, _jab_, Drusilla, _jab_, they all fell under his furious attacks. No vampire was safe.

For two hours he staked every vampire within reach of his makeshift stake and it filled him with a sense of rightness. Every time he shoved the piece of wood through a dead heart, a little piece of his soul leapt for joy but it wasn't enough. It would _never_ be enough.

He stopped and dropped his stake. He took a deep breath and lifted his face to the sky. Dawn was mere minutes away; the sky was already tinged with pink. He had to get to high ground. He took one last look at the centre square he had found himself in. Bodies littered the ground, some barely alive, some long dead and he felt regret such as he had never known.

The wind picked up, scattering the piles of dust his keen eyes had missed and he smiled grimly. No matter what, he knew he had made a difference this day. He only prayed the difference was good.

The sun never came.

The Soul stood there, on the top of the old church, the one place, ironically, that hadn't suffered fire damage, waiting for the sunrise that never arrived. Clouds covered the morning sky, preventing even the smallest sliver of light from escaping through. The Soul remained there for hours but the sky did not clear. If The Soul had been paying attention, he would have realised the clouds were not natural. They had rolled in too fast, they didn't blow with the wind; they just seemed to hang there, blocking the sun.

Eventually, he clambered down off the high roof. The sun seemed to not want to come out while he was standing there. He turned and made his way slowly down the cobblestone streets. The scent of blood was stirring his senses and he involuntarily slid into game face. He turned his head, denying the cravings of the demon.

He kept trying to push the demon to the background of his mind but it was no use. **Why should you steer? Last time you did, you ended up in an alley and I was made. **Angel couldn't deny that so he kept quiet.

Angelus' constant taunting was wearing him out. The demon was furious it would be stuck behind the Soul for the rest of eternity and it he was letting The Soul know it. The constant snide remarks and put downs were slowly chipping away at The Soul's sanity. It took mere hours to break The Soul and send him scampering. It was easy, almost too easy.

_Los Angeles, 1989_

The Soul kept to the alleys, keeping out of sight. The world had changed enormously since the days of Angelus. People were braver, smarter… stupider. They walked into alleys without care, wandered around during the night, practically waiting to be attacked and it amazed him how ignorant the human race had become.

Vampire attacks, strange deaths, weird portals over a town, were forgotten mere days after the event. Life continued and it amazed The Soul of how versatile the race was.

He slipped further down the alley, following the squeaks that meant dinner. The rat had escaped him for the past two nights. He was starving. He lunged, just as it emerged from the garbage bins it had been hiding behind. He snatched up the furry little rodent and immediately brought it to his lips, ravenously sinking his fangs into it squirming body. The warm blood flooded over his tongue as he sucked greedily.

He finished his meal and threw the body away disgustedly. **Uh, this is what you've reduced us to, eating rodents from an alley, barely keeping alive. Great way to live, you wanker.**

The Soul ignored him as he usually did and shakily got to his feet. He steadied himself on a wall. The rats were only keeping him alive. The small amount of blood the rats gave him only satisfied his blood lust. After that, he took no more. Since his turn all those years ago, he hadn't had a proper meal from anything. He could never catch enough rats, he was too weak and he refused to eat from humans.

A scream from the mouth of the alley had him shrinking down into the garbage, desperate not to be seen. A woman was dragged into the alley by her neck but The Soul knew it wasn't a vampire clutching her. What he saw next, stunned him. The woman held tightly to a little girl, no more than ten and both were crying.

The Soul sank further against the wall into the garbage. It was not his place to interfere. He was not human; he was a demon, a murderous, sick and twisted demon. The woman began to plead. 'Please, don't hurt my little girl, please, I'll do anything.'

The assailant slapped her hard and The Soul saw her head strike the wall behind her. 'Hand over your belongings,' he growled at the now groggy woman. The little girl clung to her mother who clung back. Even stunned and disorientated, the instinct for protection was strong.

'Please, don't hurt her,' the woman pleaded again as she handed over her purse. Her hand returned to wrap protectively around her daughter.

The mugger laughed and pulled out a small knife. 'Hows about I gut her instead?' he moved towards the young girl who instantly started to cry, pushing herself further into her mother's arms.

The Soul watched the scene wide eyed, fear keeping him where he was. What if he lost control and attacked them? What if the looked at him and saw the demon lying behind the mask?

The mugger grabbed the little girl and she screamed. The scream tore straight though The Soul and he couldn't watch any longer. He lunged at the attacker and grabbed him by the throat. He knocked his hand against the ground until the knife clattered to the cement and punched him a few times in the face. His anger came to the fore and he viciously continued to pound into the mugger.

A little hand softly touched his back and he swung round, coming face to face with the most beautiful green eyes he'd ever seen. The little girl, stood staring at him, eyes wide and he realised with horror and shame that he was still in game face.

The young girl reached forward and touched a small hand tenderly to his face, a lock of her blonde hair fell across her face but she ignored it. His eyes closed momentarily, enjoying the first human contact he'd had in almost a hundred years before it registered in his mind what was happening. He tore away from the tiny girl and ran for all he was worth down the alley and away from the little girl made of sunshine.

Her mother would be okay, he knew. **Pussy,** Angelus growled. **You could have had fresh blood. She wasn't even afraid. All you had to do was reach out and take her hand. We could have feasted like kings. Children were always so tender. Remember that time in Rome?**

Angel groaned and held his head in his hands. Damn Angelus. He had to stay away from the human population. Saving them was not his thing.

He only ended up screwing it up.

* * *

What did you think? Let me know. This is one of my personal faves of mine


	2. Chapter 2

**Forgot to write the disclaimer in the first chap as this was originally going to be the start.**

**Disclaimer: You know who they belong to. My name is not Joss…. At least I don't think it is.**

**Chapter 2**

The dank and damp alley stank of rotten rubbish, dead animals and human excrement. The smells alone made Whistler want to turn round and say to hell with this. Unfortunately for the Balance demon, his bosses- The Powers That Be a Pain in my Arse- had other plans. Why was it always him that was given these assignments? There must be hundreds of other Balance demons in the Powers employ, so why him?

Every demon was given a different kind of assignment. Most had the same eventual objective; Recruitment of warriors for the side of good. This mainly involved manipulating situations so warriors from the side of evil, had no choice but to, for lack of a better term, switch teams.

That's why the Balance demon was here in this disgusting excuse for an alley. To recruit. His target was close, hiding from the world, from his self but the Powers had noticed him. He would be a big player in the future. For which side was yet to be seen.

The demon waltzed into the alley, unconcerned for his own safety. He stopped in the middle of it, where he could not fail to be seen and he waited. His target would come to him.

A scuffle in the shadows had Whistler turning that way but it was merely a rat. _Disgusting creatures. Bastards helped spread the plague and people keep them as pets. The mentality of the human race leaves a lot to be desired. _He cursed the Powers yet again for sending him to this god-awful place. It couldn't have been a nice bar or racetrack, no. It had to be a disgustingly dirty, smelly and severely unclean alley that even dogs wouldn't pee in. Maybe a tetanus shot wouldn't go astray after this.

The shadows around him seemed to move but the demon held his ground, covering his fear. The bosses wouldn't have put him in a potentially fatal position, right? He was too important… right? No one else could do the job like he did. He was irreplaceable.

Suddenly feeling less than secure, he covertly glanced around the alley hoping to catch a glimpse of his target. No dice. The alley seemed deserted. He pulled an inexpensive cigar from the inside pocket of the retro velvet green jacket he wore. The jacket matched the pants and the silk lime green shirt underneath. The brown loafers on his feet completed the picture.

He lit the cigar and drew on it deeply, coughing a little as it filled his lungs. He was never given enough time to stop and simply enjoy the finer things in life. The finer thing being fine cigars, money, the racetrack and women; it was all a good demon needed.

He stood in the same place, waiting impatiently for his target to come to him. Just when he'd given up, a weary voice asked from the darkness- 'What do you want?'

'A great too many things,' Whistler shook his head sadly. 'Which did you want to hear first?'

'What are you doing here?' the seldom used voice was harsh.

Whistler knew he was playing with fire but it all came back to the thought that the Powers wouldn't have sent him into a potentially fatal situation. At least he hoped not. Who knew what those crazy Powers were thinking?

'Well, I thought it seemed a lovely night for a walk and I happened to walk into this dark and admittedly disgusting-' Whistler was cut off as a hand wrapped around his neck and cut off his air supply.

'Stop playing games,' his attacker growled and Whistler had to chant a reminder to himself that They wouldn't let him be harmed.

'I came to find you, kid' the Balance demon croaked out, his fingers trying to find purchase on the hand that held his throat. He tried to pull it away but the attacker's grip only tightened.

'Breathing becoming an issue,' he gasped scrabbling at the restraining hand. The grip loosened but didn't let go. Whistler gave in. 'Okay. I am a Balance demon. My name is Whistler. I work for the Powers That Be.'

'The Powers That Be, what?' the male in front of him asked.

'Not what. Sheesh. Don't you people know anything? The Powers That Be are the main good guys, the head honcho's and the root of all goodness. They are, in an extremely roundabout way, the reason behind charities, hospitals, human life, you know, all the good things in humanity. Not to mention Slayers, witches, watchers, vampires with souls…' the demon left the sentence hanging, waiting for a reaction. None came. He was a little disappointed.

'I'm not people,' the hand tightened around the demons neck again and Whistler decided to get straight to the point, or well as much as he was allowed to anyway.

'Okay. Here's the deal. I was sent here by the Powers with an offer for you,' the demon rubbed his throat soothingly when the man finally let go.

'Not interested,' the man dismissed him.

'You don't really have a choice, kid,' Whistler tried to say it neutrally but he knew it came out more forceful than he would have liked.

The male stopped but didn't turn back around. 'Was that a threat?' he asked softly and Whistler shivered. _Now is not the time to cave_, he berated himself.

'No. No threat here, man,' he assured the dangerous yet pitiful man before him. The stench coming off the guy was enough to make the demon want to shower for the rest of the year to remove the smell from his skin. He wondered how the man put up with it. _Maybe it's a learned thing. _

Whistler could tell the guy was getting aggravated. 'What the hell do you want with me?' he growled and this time the demon did take a step back.

'We want you... on our team. The Powers want to recruit you for the side of good,' the demon said in a rush. He knew what to say and what not to say, however, and was in no danger of over sharing.

The man laughed. It was a sad, broken laugh; the laugh of a man who truly had no hope. Whistler was determined to give him some. He was needed.

'In the future, years from now, you are one of the key players in the End of days. We just want to make sure that when it comes around, you're fighting for the right cause, on the right team,' Whistler explained, knowing the guy wouldn't take much more of his vagueness.

'And why the hell should I help you?' the man asked with another harsh laugh.

'To repent for the damage you've done to our side over the years,' Whistler said impartially. He didn't care about the guys past. It was his future that interested him. The guilt associated with that past was just a bonus.

'What are you saying?' the guy finally turned back to fully face him.

'If you fight for us, you fight for yourself. Forgiveness, absolution, freedom; a chance to get to heaven, to be with your family again.'

'I killed them,' the man said, his voice full of long remembered pain. _The guy still can't let go. The past can hurt but come on, man; it was over two hundred years ago. _'There's no hope for me. I'll be going straight to hell when I'm done. It's what I deserve.'

'We can change that,' Whistler bargained. The guy had to listen to him. He had no other choice. He _will_ work for Them. 'Redemption,' that one word said it all in the Balance demon's mind. He could tell it caught the man's too.

'Redemption?' the guy was sceptical and the badly dressed demon didn't blame him.

'Yep,' he drove the wedge further. 'Complete absolution. A way to make your sins balance with the good you will do. They have it all worked out. That's why I'm here, hence me being a Balance demon. I'm sorta your guide.'

The man seemed to consider it. 'How do I know that any of this is for real?'

'You don't. It's called trust.'

'Not something I have a lot of. You're really a messenger?' at the small demons confirmation the man nodded. 'What would I have to do?' he asked hesitantly.

'Well, my man. Like everything else in this world, it all starts with a woman,' the demon said jovially. He shrugged when the man continued to watch him. _No one gets me,_ he thought unhappily.

The vampire with a soul thought it over. Whistler could almost see the wheels turning in his mind. Finally, he stood tall. 'Show me.'

* * *

One more chap to go. How am i going? I always liked stories that had Angelus' voiceand i wrote one myself cause there weren't enough. 

Well, that's not the only reason i wrote it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer. Previous chapter.**

****

Thanksgo to:

Ghostwriter

Jenna.Fan

Boleyn

Ani8

Satelliteblues21 

Cursedgirl

For your reviews

**Feedback is appreciated.**

****

_Haven't i seen you before?_

**Chapter 3**

'Angel,' Whistler called out as the souled vampire killed yet another of his kind. The vamp was coming along in leaps and bounds. He'd changed a lot from the stinking, pitiful vamp on the path of destruction that had been in the alley.

Now the souled vampire fought nightly, destroying demons and vampires as they came. Of course it had only been two days and the guy was still a stinking pitiful vamp but he wasn't on the path of destruction any longer and to Whistler that was a win.

Tonight he'd fought with fervor, with more passion than he usually showed. Whether something had happened or it was just a bad night, something seemed to be spurring him to kill. The balance demon thought of asking the vampire about it but one look at his tense face and he thought better of it. He rather liked his head where it was.

The vampire beheaded the last one and turned to face the good demon. Whistler almost stepped back at the fiery look in his eyes. 'What,' he barked at him.

'Whoa man, calm down,' Whistler said, thinking of his neck again. 'What's wrong with you?' he said bluntly.

Angel stared at him uncomprehendingly and Whistler sighed. This vamp had a long way to go before he would be ready to be released to fight the good fight. Unfortunately they only had one more day before It happened. Angel would be given his purpose.

'Granted this is only the second time I've seen you fight but you seem a little extra frustrated tonight. Something happen I should know about?'

Angel bent down to retrieve his jacket from the ground. He slipped the filthy piece of clothing on and Whistler decided to get him a whole new wardrobe before he set him loose on the girl.

'I know how to fight. So why are we doing this?'

'The Powers want to make sure you can still handle yourself,' Whistler said simply. _Handle himself sure and the girl as well. She'll need protection. _'Make sure you're still who we need you to be.'

Angel seemed to accept that answer as he didn't question the Balance demon any longer. They called it quits for the night and Whistler told him to be ready the next night. He didn't tell him what for though.

The Soul, now named Angel, sat nervously in Whistler's car as the good demon drove them to their next destination. Angel had no idea what was in store for him today. Whistler was being tight lipped about the whole thing, a fact that made him even more nervous. Whistler was usually full of fun facts about the demons they were after, or the locations they were going to. Tonight, he was stonily silent as he drove.

The sun beat down on the car and Angel could feel the heat on his head from the roof. Instead of coming to get him tonight, like he promised, Whistler had turned up just after lunch, claiming The Powers wanted him to see something.

Having no other choice, Angel had entered the car. Now they were on their way to God knows where. The blacked out windows afforded him some protection from the harsh sun, but allowed him to see a little of the world outside.

All of a sudden the car began to slow and Angel peered out a blank space in the badly sprayed window. What looked like a school loomed in Angel's vision. He looked to Whistler, puzzled by this sight. The demon just smiled and pointed towards the steps.

Angel rolled down the window, which was thankfully facing away from the sun and focused his gaze on the steps. Instantly he saw her. There must have been fifty other people on those steps but his gaze zeroed in on just one.

She was amazing. Her waist length blonde hair fell in shiny waves, framing her heart-shaped face. Even from this distance, he could see the amazing green of her eyes. She strode down the stairs, amongst her friends confidently. Movement down the bottom of the stairs drew Angel's gaze briefly. A man, dressed in a tweed suit was waiting at the bottom and for a moment Angel was confused. He looked at Whistler in accusation as he realised what was going on.

The balance demon unconcernedly stared back. After a moment, Angel turned back to watch the scene unfold. The girl was sucking on a lollipop as she walked down the stairs. Her friends had left her already. She removed her lightweight jacket and draped it across her knees as she sat down on the stairs to wait. She didn't have long.

Angel watched, a frown appearing on his face as she was approached by man in tweed. _Watcher_. Angel could see the man tumbling out an explanation to her. He saw the fear briefly cross her face and had to reign in the urge to run to her safety.

**Yeah, that's the way, dumbass. **Angelus let his annoyingly constant presence be known. **Go on out there into the SUNLIGHT. It's not like it'd kill us.**

Angel watched the Watcher try to convince the poor girl. He had to cut the talk short however, when Buffy's father picked her up. The vampire could see the determination on the Englishman's face. This was obviously far from over. _Question is, is she a potential or a Slayer?_

'Her name is Buffy Anne Summers. She's sixteen years old and was just called as a Slayer,' Whistler said as he stood in the alley.

Angel paced restlessly. He knew he knew the girl from somewhere. He just couldn't recollect where. Angelus was no help. **You like her don't you? Want to touch her, smell her, drain her and fuck her, **the demon had started chanting in his head.

'Why?' he asked as he paced. Angelus was more active than he had been in the past couple of decades. No doubt he'd noticed their pull towards the girl and was reacting to it. 'Why a Slayer? I've killed many of them, so why put me near one?'

'First of all,' Angel could sense Whistlers annoyance. 'It was the demon, not you… you know, I just bet that's going to have to be drummed into you a million times in the next few years- and second of all, maybe it's penance. You killed a few, now you have to save one. That sort of thing.'

The more Angel thought about it, the more it made sense. He had killed quite a few Slayers, many more than Spike, so maybe this was a way to help towards evening that balance.

'Can you handle it?' Whistler said cockily like he knew the vampire wouldn't back out.

He was right.

Angel crouched in the shadows, waiting for the Slayer. The Watcher had been successful after all. She was to complete her first patrol tonight. Suddenly she appeared in the cemetery, looking scared and completely out of her depth. He wondered what the hell her Watcher was thinking. She hadn't even been trained yet. She had no idea what she was doing.

Her Watcher waltzed in after her, muttering something to her. She glanced uneasily at him and Angel could sense the fear coming off her and it had nothing to do with the vampires. She was in a dark graveyard, with a strange man who claimed vampires and all other manner of dark creatures were real. Angel admired her for getting this far without running.

Not long after that, the Watcher disappeared. Buffy was left on her own next to a fresh grave. She stood there, clutching her stake, looking frightened and bored at the asame time. _She's still so much the teenager_, he thought sadly. _It's such a shame_.

**Shame my ass, you pathetic piece of shit,** Angelus snorted. **It makes her vulnerable. You could take her now you know. She has no idea what she's doing. It would be pathetically easy to take her. She wouldn't even know you were a vampire until you sank your fangs in her neck.**

_Shut up_, Angel closed his eyes, willing the demon back. He opened his eyes again to see the vampire emerging from the grave, towards an unaware Buffy. _Look,_ he urged her silently. _Look down. _

He couldn't help her; he knew that, she had to do this on her own. Everything in him ached to go to her aid but how would she learn if he did so? It was in that moment where he realised who she was. The little girl from the alleyway.

He watched her notice the vampire, he watched on tenterhooks as she fended off the evil being. It almost had her. It pinned her to the ground and lent towards her neck. Angel, prepared to jump in and save her, watched as she threw the vampire off her, watched her amazement at her strength.

Life was cruel sometimes. It had taken the innocent little girl in the alley and turned her into a supernatural being. Someone who could never hope to be normal again.

He settled back and watched her work. After a small scuffle, she found an opening and brought her stake down towards the evil creature's heart. She missed. He heard her muttered 'Ooh, not the heart," before she again brought the stake down.

The vampire exploded in a cloud of dust, leaving a stunned Buffy crumpled on the ground. The Watcher stepped out. 'See what you are, what you can do?'

Buffy nodded. 'You are the Slayer,' the Watcher pompously continued. 'One girl in all the world chosen to fight evil and prevent the swell of their numbers.'

Angel bowed his head. The following years would be hard for her. Hopefully, with him by her side, she will find it easier. If not, then what was the point of any of it?

The End

* * *

What did you think? I told you it would only be three chaps long. Did I do good?

I need the validation people!


End file.
